Enraged the dark shadow bellows in fury – but it has no power within the cantina. The saloon doors slam shut and the phantasm is gone. Jose casually cleans a glass, softly whistling. Tom, mid-chew, swallows – “So… this kind of thing happens often here?”
“Si.”
“And I am safe, as long as I stay in here?”
“Si.”
Tom reflects for a moment, and then takes another bite of the burrito. He slowly chews.

Jose cleans another glass, and begins to speak rapidly in Spanish.
Tom shakes his head – “I’m sorry… I don’t understand.”
Jose sighs, and speaks louder – as if Tom were hard of hearing.
Tom shrugs his shoulders, palms up, in a gesture of confusion.
Exasperated, Jose grabs a pencil and paper, and sketches a crack in the ground, with comically crude ghosts spewing from it – when Tom looks at Jose, Jose points westward.
Tom points to himself, and also points westward.

Jose sadly shakes his head and whistles. A young girl answers.
“Let me guess: la Puertas de Infierno?”